


Trading Places

by JMount74



Series: Febuwhump [5]
Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Arrest, Gen, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Sleep Deprivation, kidnap, mention of drugging, mentions of beating, mentions of torture, mentions of vomiting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-17 02:27:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29217957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JMount74/pseuds/JMount74
Summary: Captain Scott Tracy has it all. A future rising in the ranks of the USAF, a great family back home.One meeting changes all of that, and Scott goes to show how far he will go to protect his brother.For the Febuwhump prompts: Take me instead, Insomnia, This is no time to sleep, Poisoning, Hallucination, Torture
Series: Febuwhump [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2137590
Comments: 23
Kudos: 19





	1. Take Me Instead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Gumnut for giving me a shove in the right direction with the additional prompt: Scott lying to a brother.

Scott got dressed in his uniform with a heavy heart. A very heavy heart. He had been given a three-day pass and he was heading home, but he really didn’t want to. There was a sickening feeling of dread coiling in his stomach and there was nothing he could do. Absolutely nothing was going to change the outcome for him. 

For his brother. It had become almost a mantra over the last 24 hours. For his brother. It was the only thing that was going to get him through this. For his loved his brothers more than anything in the world.

The knock at the door signalled all was ready, and Captain Scott Tracy stood tall and firm and ready to face the world. Even if he felt anything but ready.

Home. The farmhouse in Kansas was always going to be home, no matter that his father was talking about moving abroad somewhere. Scott dumped his kit bag in the porch before opening the door and listening to the sounds of his family, his whole family as this visit had coincided with breaks for both John and Virgil.

They were not expecting him, and he listened to them arguing over the pancakes for breakfast. He steeled himself. This was going to be one of the hardest things he had ever had to do. ‘Deep breath, Scott. Deep breath.’ And he opened the kitchen door and walked in. 

TBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTB

A little more than 48 hours ago:

He had been called in to see the base commander. Pull out of briefing in front of everybody, Scott was racking his brains to work out what the hell he had done. He couldn’t think of anything.

Having been ushered into a room containing three chairs and a desk to wait, he stood to attention while waiting, desperate to know what was going on. He didn’t have long to wait. Three men entered the room, and seeing two dressed in a special uniform, Scott’s heart sank. He didn’t need to know who they were, their dress confirmed it.

Military Intelligence. 

His commander looked very unhappy, and Scott couldn’t blame him even without knowing anything. The man cleared his throat. ‘Captain, these men are here to interview you on a matter of national security. Give them every assistance, do you understand?’ Staring straight ahead Scott barked out the reply expected. ‘Sir. Yes, Sir.’ The commander nodded once. ‘Good man,’ was all he replied before leaving.

The two men sat down and gestured Scott to do the same. He sat warily, the desk between them. For a while no one spoke. He knew it was a tactic to get him to speak, but Scott grew up with four younger brothers. He could hold his tongue.

‘Well, Captain,’ began the first man. He was tall and lithe, just a tad shorter than Scot was himself. ‘Your Commander speaks very highly of you.’ Scott said nothing, he just continued staring impassively ahead. Lithe merely cocked an eyebrow and smiled. It was not a nice smile.

The second man snorted. He was definitely more army based, with the broad shoulders and chest of a man who worked out regularly. For just a fleeting second Scott was reminded of the last time he had been home, watching Virgil doing his weights routine. His middle brother had really bulked out impressively.

Burly looked to Lithe and some silent message was passed between them. They sat forward to talk, and without realising it, so did Scott.

‘Let’s just cut to the chase here, Captain. We have a proposition for you. We want you to work for us.’ Scott could feel his mouth fall open. Shaking himself mentally, he marshalled his thoughts.

‘No, thank you. I’m not interested in anything in that line of work.’ He folded his arms across his chest and sat back. The two men looked at each other and Scott got the feeling that this was the answer they had expected.

‘You haven’t heard what the job is.’ He shook his head. ‘Whatever it is, I’m not interested.’ Lithe shrugged and turned to Burly. ‘Well, we heard what he said.’ Burly nodded and pulled out a radio. ‘That’s a red light here, sir. A red light here. Proceed with the next phase.’ Both turned to look at Scott, who was frowning despite his proclaimed disinterest. The two were standing up and making to leave when the radio crackled.

‘Please confirm that the next stage is to arrest one Virgil Tracy, over.’

Scott’s heart stopped. Virgil. His brother. 20 years old, artist and engineering student. What on earth had he done to warrant this? He shot to his feet so fast the chair clattered behind him.

‘Wait!’

The two men paused but did not sit back down.

‘Wait, please. Tell me what’s going on.’

The next hour broke Scott completely. For his artistic, loving and trusting brother had gotten involved with a group at college who were definitely not what he thought they were. There was photographic evidence of Virgil meeting with this group, all around the same age, but their supposed ideologies were polar opposites. For where Virgil was a confirmed pacifist, these others were confirmed terrorists. 

Somehow his brother had got taken in by a terrorist cell from the country Scott was at war with.

‘We are going to have to arrest him and charge him with violating the Espionage Act and probably a host of other charges too. We think that they targeted him both because of his engineering knowledge and because of you. It’s no secret you are here fighting, and we think they believe you would have told him something that would help them.’

Scott’s eyes went wide. ‘I would never talk to anyone about this, but least of all Virgil!’ he said, holding a picture of his brother laughing along with three other men. Burly nodded. ‘We know. We have investigated you thoroughly to be sure.’ Scott didn’t know whether to be pleased or not.

‘What can I do? Please, there must be something I can do! Can you take me instead?’

The two men exchanged a glance Scott could not decipher. Lithe grinned, and it was not a reassuring one. ‘We hoped that you would feel that way. We have a plan.’

And for the next three hours Scott was introduced to the most convoluted yet simple plan he had ever come across. Gordon would have loved it. But this plan was going to cause, in the short term, huge heartbreak for all his family. 

‘I’ll do it.’ They clapped him on the shoulder and shook hands with him. Whatever happened now Scott had no control over, but he had been assured that Virgil was safe, and they would ensure that. 

He got ready to leave for home.

TBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTB

The kitchen erupted. Scott found himself in the centre of a standing dogpile, brothers screaming in his ear. Eventually a chuckling Jeff told his boys to let their eldest brother go. Alan was a limpet, dragging Scott over to sit next to him, much to the amusement of his other brothers. John passed him a plate piled high with pancakes and syrup, just as he always had them.

His stomach churned, but he had to eat it. He had to put on a good show, not raise any suspicions, but he could see Virgil shooting him a narrowing glance. Questions were coming his way anyway it seemed.

John and Virgil cornered him later that morning. Demanding to know why he was home again after he’d not been here not that long ago, Scott smiled and said it was a kickback. A reward for doing something important but secret back on the base. He hated lying to his brothers, had never lied to them before, but they seemed satisfied with the answer.

It was two in the afternoon when it happened.

There was a knock on the door. When Jeff opened it there stood their town sheriff, and with him were three men in suits. Jeff frowned. This did not seem good.

‘Jeff,’ the sheriff said, clearly uncomfortable.  
‘Dan,’ Jeff replied, ‘what can I do for you.’  
‘Err, these gentlemen,’ here Dan gestured behind him, ‘they need to talk to Scott. Can you call him here?’  
‘Here? Don’t you want to come in?’ Jeff asked, his worry racked up to maximum.  
‘Sir, we need to see Scott and we would rather not do it in front of his family.’

‘What’s going on, Dad?’ And Scott was there, still in uniform.  
‘Scott Tracy?’ the same man asked.  
‘Yes, sir?’  
‘I am arresting you on the suspicion of violating the Espionage Act. You have the right to remain…’ The rest was lost as his father exploded, joined by all his brothers. Scott closed his eyes.

‘QUIET!’ he shouted, and there was instant silence. Scott turned to the man talking. ‘Yes, sir. I understand.’  
‘Scott?’ and this was his test, his biggest test. He turned to face Virgil. ‘It’s ok, Virg. Everything is going to be ok.’ His smile was genuine, though. Because, for Virgil, everything would be ok.  
‘But what they’re saying…’  
‘I know, Virgil. I’m sorry.’ Virgil’s face fell. As did his father’s.

He was cuffed and lead to the police cruiser, his dad shouting after him not to worry, he’d get his lawyers onto this. Scott knew that would be useless, but his dad didn’t. He didn’t look behind as the car drove away, knowing that seeing his family now would break him.

They drove to the local police station where they swapped cars and Scott was the driven out of town. No one said anything, for he had already been warned that the men here did not know the truth of what was happening. They had been told he really was under suspicion.

They drove him on into the late evening, and he had no idea where he was. Finally they stopped and he was taken to the barrack jail. He might not know where he was, but barrack jails were the same everywhere.

Now all he had to do was wait and play his part and this nightmare would soon be over.

TBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTB

To say the Tracy’s were dumbfounded would have been an understatement. The charges were so ridiculous that Jeff couldn’t get his head around it. John and Virgil were due back at their respective uni’s the next day, and both had said they wanted to stay, but having them home wouldn’t help Scott. No, Jeff began to think about all his old contacts, and he busied himself seeing what strings he could pull.

The two oldest were loath to return to uni, but their Dad made sense, they really could do nothing. So return they did. Concentration was difficult, and nothing was forthcoming regarding Scott’s predicament from anyone. Thankfully, it had not made the papers yet, but that was a whole storm just waiting to happen.

John talked with his dad and Virgil often, and before they were aware of it Scott had been arrested a week ago. Still no progress had been made and their dad was pulling his hair out. His contacts knew nothing. Saturday, and Virgil met up with his three friends, sullen and withdrawn. He hadn’t meant to tell them, but they had badgered him until he vented. The three shared knowing looks that went completely over Virgil’s head. How anyone could ever suspect his brother of, of, well, whatever they were accusing him of, they were wrong.

Later that Sunday Jeff finally found out where Scott was being held and demanded to speak to his son. His request was denied. But they did tell him his son was being moved to a more secure location. Jeff wasn’t sure what to make of the fact that they had told him, but they explained that he would have the opportunity to meet Scott there with the lawyer.

Jeff passed on the information, and both John and Virgil sighed with relief. Virgil in turn, feeling guilty that he had dumped on his friends, explained to them that everything was looking up now. They wanted details and he was more than happy to share. 

Virgil felt lucky that he had such supportive friends.

TBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTB

It had been one of the roughest weeks of Scott’s life. He’d received a thorough beating that first night, even though no-one should have been able to get to him. He knew how the military operated, the mere suggestion that he had sold out and he was a legitimate target. 

He’d been beaten one more time, had probably a couple of cracked ribs as well as nasty bruising, but it was nothing compared with what he knew was planned. The guard had delighted to tell him he was being moved on Monday to a secure prison, a place he would no doubt receive even worse treatment, but Scott didn’t acknowledge anything.

He knew he wouldn’t get there.

At least, that was the plan. He was bait to lure out the terrorist cell. They had been confident that arresting him would be enough for the interest to be shown, and his being moved was confirmation that they knew about him. Now, if everything went to plan his convoy would be ambushed and they would be caught, and this would all be over. For both him and his brother.

TBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTB

They had prepared well for an occasion such as this, only it had been in case it was one of their own rather than a stranger. But for this man to have been arrested on that charge must mean that they had been right to target the brother. His knowledge would be invaluable to their masters, for the USAF was gaining ground recently.

They were ready, and when the convoy came into sight the plan was put into play. It was over within five minutes. Target acquired, drugged and they were on their way. The roadblock set up to trap them was bypassed. Because they had grabbed Scott and immediately boarded a light aircraft a fourth member of the team had flown to the site.

The men on the ground cursed. That was not the plan. Not only had they not arrested anyone, but they had also lost their asset. A light aircraft such as theirs could go under the radar for miles.

Scott Tracy was missing. In enemy hands.


	2. Insomnia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Scott in jail, no-one is getting any sleep.

Jeff Tracy had never been so stressed in his life. In the course of the last eight days he had managed virtually no sleep at all, and certainly since things had gone so wrong yesterday there had been no sleep at all.

His eldest son arrested on charges that amounted to treason had been bad enough, the lack of rebuttal from said son had been worse, but the inability to find out what the hell was going on had set Jeff on edge. He had contacts going right up to the Pentagon, but no-one was talking to him. He got it, he really did, but that wasn’t going to stop him pulling every trick in the book to get Scott out of the mess. He was up all hours trying to find someone who could do something, while still trying to reassure his children.

The following seven days had been a nightmare that promised no relief. His Mom had come to stay, and that had been a godsend in of itself. Neither Gordon nor Alan would settle down for anything, but his mom had a gift in making sure the boys at least tried to go to bed.

Gordon had been sent home from his training camp for WASP entry. Nothing was officially said, but news of that kind travelled fast in military circles. In turn, Gordon stayed in a filthy mood all week, mostly in the pool. His nights he spent with Alan, neither sleeping, taking their anger out on the many zombie games Alan favoured.

Alan, at 13, was acting like Jeff would have expected Gordon to act had he been that age. He’d gone to school and almost immediately gotten into a fight. He was now suspended for the rest of the week with a beautiful shiner as a reward. He spent his time killing zombies and muttering dark threats.

He had begun to wonder if he would even just see Scott before a trial, when suddenly he’d received a call saying his son was being moved the next day and Jeff would be able to meet him at the destination. Maybe then he could get some sleep. A sleep-deprived Jeff was like an angry bear, Virgil had followed him in this.

There was a small part of him that had regretted sending John and Virgil back to their respective universities, but he had hoped the normality of life there would help ground them. He needed them tomorrow, and he was so thankful they were both flying in tonight and they would go there together.

So Jeff, John and Virgil had waited, feeling excitement and dread in equal measure, for Scott to arrive. Jeff needed to see what state his son was in, well aware that his son would have been a target in whichever jail he had been held in. He knew that it wasn’t going to be easy.

TBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTB

John had not slept since returning to his apartment in Boston. While it was not unusual for him to get by on little sleep, even that little had illuded him. He was sure there was something more going on here – there was no way on Earth Scott had done what they were accusing him of – but his big brother had not said anything to refute the charges. 

Replaying the scene in his head, the thing that stood out was that Scott had seemed resigned, almost apologetic, and while some would see that as an admission of guilt, on Scott it highlighted that there was more here than met the eye. Scott was always the first to stand up and admit his guilt, sometimes even doing so to protect his brothers when he actually wasn’t guilty.

That was the thought that was now consuming him. Who was Scott protecting and why? There was only one way to find out. First thing John did on Tuesday morning was open his laptop and start exploring.

So he set up his search engines and waited, constantly attending them to change or add parameters, tweaking and refining the tasks set. Day and night his computers ran, delving into all sorts of sites, and by the third day he was both frustrated and on a serious caffeine high that it felt like his heart would explode if he had another drink. He’d given up the coffee and energy drinks – he needed a clear head for the weekend and going home.

Nothing. There was nothing, John had found nothing. That in of itself just confirmed in John’s mind that something else was at play here. There should have been mentions of someone being arrested on charges of violating the Espionage Act even if no names had been mentioned, but there was nothing.

He hadn’t said anything to his dad or Virgil, not wanting to cause any further worry than was already present. Flying back home overnight, he mulled over his apparent inability to find anything and resolved to look further. But tomorrow he’d see Scott again, and hopefully get some answers.

TBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTB

Virgil had not slept since it had happened. There was a nagging in the back of his brain that something more was going on, but whatever was going on, nothing and no-one was ever going to convince him Scott was guilty, not even Scott.

The lack of sleep brought out the angry bear in him, and it wasn’t long before he’d snapped at a lecturer one too many times and found himself in trouble. It was extremely rare for the quiet boy, and his tutors were worried. Citing family problems gave him some leeway, but he knew if he wasn’t careful he would explode and tell the wrong person. Coffee, strong enough to stand a spoon in, was his constant companion. 

Chatting with Dad and John had helped every day, but he couldn’t get any sleep when he was alone. Virgil was really regretting coming back to the campus, he’d have been much better off at home comforting and being comforted by his dad and his younger brothers.

Still, there had been a ray hope. Virgil couldn’t wait for the evening. He would be able to tell his friends. They had been so supportive and helpful over the last few months since he had met them in the café. And they had really cheered him up when he had explained what had happened, so when he’d received the call saying he could see Scott tomorrow he’d been so ecstatic he needed to share that with them. They had ended the call a little more abruptly than they usually did, but Virgil was in too much of a good mood to even notice it.

TBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTB

The time for Scott to arrive, though, had come and gone with no sign of anyone. They had waited for hours, fear and worry increasing minute on minute. Eventually a black SUV had turned up and two men got out that Jeff recognised. They were two of the three men who had come with the sheriff to arrest Scott. 

Whatever was going on, Jeff had the distinct impression that it had gone wildly wrong. The two men looked bleak, and they had ushered Jeff and his boys into an interview room. Jeff got even more nervous when the camera in the room was turned off.

Gesturing for Jeff to sit, the two sat behind the table in the room and waited. The silence was uncomfortable for John and Virgil, but Jeff was well used to such tactics in the boardroom and he sat there impassively with his arms folded, and his boys followed suit.

Eventually the thinner man cleared his throat. Jeff didn’t move, showed no outward sign of anything, but inside he was as coiled as a spring.

‘Colonel Tracy, it’s an honour sir, and I wish we were meeting under different circumstances.’ No offer to shake hands was made, and the three sat just as they had from the start. ‘We have business to discuss with you that we would rather discuss alone, if your sons wouldn’t mind waiting outside.’ Jeff’s eyes narrowed. ‘My boys are not going anywhere. Please explain what the hell is going on and why you are involved.’

‘If you are sure, it is not going to be pleasant.’ Jeff gestured impatiently for the man to get on with it. The two shared a look before settling.

‘You son was working for us,’ the burly one started, ignoring the gasps from both John and Virgil. ‘We had a unique situation that he was the only person that could help with.’ Jeff felt John’s hand squeezing his shoulder as John reacted. ‘That’s utter bull. There is no way Scott would help you out!’ he all but shouted. Jeff reached up and patted John’s hand.

‘With all due respect to you both, John’s right. Scott was not the type to go undercover. He preferred a more direct method of work and sorting problems, so I’m afraid that what you’ve said just doesn’t ring true.’ The men looked at each other again and sighed in tandem. ‘We were able to persuade him it was for a good cause.’ This time it was Virgil who reacted, albeit slightly calmer than his usually unflappable brother. ‘That’s crap and you know it.’

‘We had hoped to avoid this. Are you sure you want to go through this with them present?’ If his words were meant to make Jeff question his decision, all they did was put his back up. The lithe one muttered that they would regret it, but there was no real threat in his voice.

‘Ok. Just remember it was your choice. Several weeks ago we were made aware of a potential security threat here on home soil. A known extremist was seen meeting three men in Springfield, Massachusetts, and we were notified as the extremist is connected to Bereznik. The three men were followed discretely back to Boston.’

Jeff thought that this week had been the worst of his life. He was totally unprepared for what happened next. Thankfully, John had quick reflexes, for Virgil, hearing ‘Boston’ had fainted. His brother was not a lightweight, but John managed to manoeuvre him down onto the floor, where he and his father set about loosening his collar and bringing him round.

It didn’t take long, and they were helping Virgil into a chair while the two men sat there and watched the proceedings. Jeff guessed that they had expected a reaction. Well, so be it. They needed to know what had happened. Checking his middle son was alright, he gestured for the men to carry on, while John stood beside his brother offering moral support.

‘As you have correctly guessed, Mr Virgil Tracy, those three men proceeded to befriend you. We’re not entirely sure why they thought that you were a suitable target, but we think they knew about you because they knew about Scott being involved in the war and you being a pacifist. Can you explain how you met?’

Virgil cleared his throat. He felt both sick and hollow at the same time. ‘Uh, sure. I was sitting in the café across from the library as I often did, when they asked if they could join me. It was pretty busy, no free tables, and so I said sure. They introduced themselves, all studying to be doctors and we got to chatting. The next day I didn’t go, but the day after I did. They were already there and invited me to sit with them. It just went from there.’

‘Whatever the extremist was there for, after they made contact with you he disappeared. Until three days before Scott came home. He met up with the group again, and although we are not sure what was going on, they obviously had plans in motion.’

The other man took up the tail. ‘We obviously couldn’t talk to you, not without alerting them to the fact that we were on to them, so we did the next best thing. We spoke to Scott. He agreed to help us find out what was going on.’

Jeff was shaking his head. There was still something about this story that didn’t ring true, and he had a horrible feeling he knew what it was. But he needed them to say it. ‘While I don’t doubt my son’s patriotism, there is more to this story than what you’re telling us. No way Scott would think that working here in the US would be more important than his work over there.’

The glance the two men shared told him enough. But Jeff still wanted to hear them say it. ‘What did you do, threaten to have Virgil here thrown into jail if he didn’t cooperate?’ The silence said everything, and Jeff closed his eyes. Rubbing his hand down his face, he turned to Virgil. His son had gone ashen and looked close to passing out again. The smile his father gave him bolstered him.

‘So. Let’s put a pin in you coercing my son to participate in this plan, and let’s just move on. You’re telling me arresting Scott while he was home was all part of a plan to capture this extremist and his three friends?’ The men nodded.

‘We figured if we did it at home then at some point Virgil would tell the group. Once we had established that he had told them, we had plans in place to move the asset, giving them time to mobilise and do whatever they were going to do. We would catch them in the act and arrest them all. It was a fool-proof plan.’

‘Except it wasn’t, was it. Because we are sitting here, long past the arranged time, and there is no Scott!’ Jeff was aware that he had begun to shout, but this was ridiculous. Why were they so sure it would work? ‘Why were you so sure this plan would work?’

‘We figured that what they wanted was information the asset…er, I mean Scott, may have passed on to Virgil, so if it looked like Scott was available himself, they might just go for him. And they did!’ Jeff snorted. ‘So where did it go wrong?’ The two glanced at each other again, clearly uncomfortable.

‘We had seen them practice how they would free one of them if this scenario had played out and one of them was captured, and we figured that that was how they would do it. Unfortunately, what we were unprepared for was that they used a light aircraft to snatch your son. By the time we realised the plan had gone wrong they were already in the air. And we had no way of tracking them.’

‘So, let me get this straight. You arrest Scott on a trumped-up charge of espionage, you jail him and let us tell the bad guys where he is going to be on a given day and time, you let them kidnap him, and you have no means of tracking him?’

The two nodded.

‘So my son is currently being held hostage, for information he does not possess, possibly by a hostile state? He may not even still be in the country, and you have no idea? Do you know what they are going to do to Scott when they find out he knows nothing?’

Jeff knew he wouldn’t sleep again until his son was home.


	3. This Is No Time To Sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott wakes up somewhere he didn't expect and rapidly begins to realise he is in deep trouble.

His eyes felt ridiculously heavy, and so did his body. So heavy that he couldn’t move. There was a slight registering of alarm at that thought, but little more than that – anything else required too much effort. There was a noise like a plane engine, he’d know that sound anywhere, but his body soon gave in to sleep.

The next time Scott approached consciousness, there was a much more sudden awakening. He was doused in cold water, and the sudden shock pulled him awake too quickly, disorientating him.

Where was he? He had been promised that once the men had been caught trying to rescue him it would all be over, and he could return home for a real break. This was not part of the plan. As his brain started to connect the dots, he began to realise that he was in trouble. Something had gone terribly wrong.

Scott found himself seated, wrists and ankles bound to the chair, and blindfolded. He could hear one other person in the room, their breathing was steady, but they were not moving. And that was all he could make out. No background sounds or ambient noise, no other people. 

There was the sound of a match being lit from behind him, and the smell of cigarette smoke soon became apparent. Two footsteps, and hands were placed heavily on his shoulders. There was breathing in his ear, and he could feel the heat from the cigarette on his face. The hands squeezed and let go, the person standing up and walking away, it sounded like they were walking around him to come stand in front.

The person took Scott’s chin in their hand and forced his head back until Scott would have been looking in his face. Smoke was blown over him, and it took great self-control not to choke. They held him for far longer than was comfortable, their fingers digging into his jaw, and still they said nothing. 

Eventually they let go, there was the sound of footsteps retreating and a slap of a hand against a door or wall. A door opened and the footsteps faded as the door closed, and Scott was left alone to ponder where the hell this all went wrong.

There was no doubt in his mind that the group had managed to get him free as planned, but it was obvious that he had not been rescued. What worried him was the position he found himself in. If they had freed him because they believed that he had intel and had been selling it, he thought that they might be more, uh, accommodating, but the fact that he was here, tied to a chair and blindfolded, led Scott to think that there was more involved in this mission than he had been led to believe.

He was left alone for hours, no sounds at all but his own breathing and heartbeat. Resigning himself to the long haul, Scott decided he might as well get some sleep while nothing was happening, he was sure he would need all his wits about him.

No sooner had he dropped off when he was rudely woken up by another dousing of ice-cold water. No other sounds, no-one spoke, just footsteps and the door opening and closing. And again Scott was left alone. Only this time he had a good idea what was going on. After all, he’d had his SERE training.

Sleep deprivation is one of the many forms of torture banned by the world government. But when the country a person is actively trying to assist does not recognise the authority of said government, all its’ rules no longer apply.

Scott, however, had suffered from insomnia his entire life. Running on little sleep was second nature to him, one doctor his worried parents had taken him to called it Primary Insomnia, where there was no medical cause, and had suggested it was in his genes. There were cases – rare though they were – cases of people even thriving on so little sleep they should have had major issues. 

He was weakened though, the seven nights he had spent in jail had been stressful, and now with this added problem Scott would have to dig hard into his reserves. He knew he could cope better than most, though.

It was his fourth awakening by water that the scene changed. There were several people in the room, maybe three or four, judging from the footsteps, and again someone grabbed his jaw. It was still a little tender from before. They held it tightly, and Scott got the feeling that they were disappointed that up to now he hadn’t said anything.

The woman’s voice surprised him, but it was clear from her tone she was the one in charge. ‘Well, Captain Tracy, it seems you are a little stronger than I had been led to believe.’ She let go and moved back. ‘Untie him, take him to the room and clean him up. We have business together.’ And with that his wrist and ankle bonds were untied, and he was dragged from the room, his legs deciding that they were not going to work after being in one position for so long. The blindfold stayed on.

Eventually he was dropped onto a tiled surface, and he could hear running water, a shower room he assumed, and he suffered the indignity of being stripped and virtually hosed down before a rough towel was pressed into his hands. He dried off as quickly as possible, knowing that he was vulnerable here, and it was a good job he had, he was still only half dry when the towel was snatched off him and he was dressed in what felt like joggers and a t shirt.

They grabbed an arm each again and this time he was marched to a room and sat back into a chair, wrists and ankles bound again. Scott understood this game. Make it feel like he could be rewarded with human treatment if he cooperated, that was the goal here. The blindfold was removed, and he blinked in the sudden brightness of the light.

He couldn’t turn his head to look around the room as the chair he was occupying had two ’wings’ attached either side of the headrest, forcing him to look straight ahead into the light. His eyes were watering, and Scott wished he could stop them, knowing that anything could be taken as a sign of weakness.

‘Captain, I’m sure that you will agree with me that you want this to be over as soon as possible. For that to happen I need some answers to certain questions, and I am sure you will give them to me.’ Scott said nothing. He hadn’t been given any information to pass over in the event that the plan failed, the two intelligence men being so determined that they would win, so he wasn’t in possession of any intel this person might need.

‘I will be back soon for our little chat. In the meantime, this is no time to sleep, so I suggest you try harder to stay awake.’ It wasn’t a particularly veiled threat, and he got the meaning. Sleep, and he would be forced awake, until he gave over whatever information she wanted.

TBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTB

The meeting with the two military intelligence men when on for hours, no-one getting any further forward than before. In the end they had called it a night and crawled into bed in a hotel. Jeff had been sure none of them would sleep, but it appeared that they were just so exhausted they all slept late.

John had demanded details. Jeff knew his second-born son was a whizz with computers, and he hoped that the details he had been given would be enough to find some kind of clue as to what had happened, maybe even where Scott was being held.

The next three days passed in a blur of phone calls and video chats, threats and counter threats to find something, anything, anyone that could possibly help in any way. There had been a lot of sympathy from Jeff’s contacts but little help. His friend at the Pentagon had promised to look into what he could, but there was so little help that could be given.

John, that first day there, had gone out with Jeff’s credit card and bought an incredible amount of computer equipment, taking one of the rooms in the suit Jeff had booked and setting up shop. Jeff had no idea what he was doing, but once the system was up and running John disappeared in there and he had not come out.

Virgil had been more of a concern. He had taken his role in this very hard, and as eager as he was to be of some help, he really couldn’t be. By the end of that first day his son was listless and depressed, and Jeff’s worry mounted. He needed a way for Virgil to feel helpful, and in the end it was Virgil who decided how he was going to help, arranging for their meals and coffee and calling home to fill the rest of the family in on what was happening.

The two military guys had left them after the fruitless discussion on the first day, but the bigger one had returned the second day and had handed over a small dossier of information they had gathered about the three men Virgil had been seen with. The man was not happy, but Jeff’s friend at the pentagon had really come through for him, at least partly.

John immediately set several more search patterns running, staying in the room to keep his searches going, while Jeff and Virgil poured over the information given to them. No-one got any sleep the second night, and Virgil swapped the coffee out for decaf, despite knowing that his dad would not be pleased. They had to get sleep at some point if they wanted to be of any help to Scott.

It was late on the third day that Jeff insisted John had a break. John often needed a closer eye kept on him, he could read for hours and miss eating, drinking and sleeping when he was intent on a task, and Jeff was insisting he get some rest, Virgil was capable of watching the searches for a short while.

It took a long time to convince him, but eventually John allowed himself to be dragged to bed. Jeff took the opportunity to catch up with his mom and Virgil sat with the computers, praying for something to pay off.

There was a sound from the bathroom. Virgil frowned, and pushed at the door, surprised when it opened. There stood John, staring at himself in the mirror, gripping the worktop tightly. He couldn’t have had more than a couple of hours sleep, and he possibly looked worse than he had before. He hadn’t noticed Virgil standing at the door, and to his brother’s horror, John proceeded to slap himself quite hard around the face, muttering to himself ‘this is no time to sleep, this is no time to sleep.’

Virgil rushed over and gently turned his brother to face him, holding his hands gently. ‘Come on John, you need some sleep so that you can function on all cylinders.’ He gently led John back out of the bathroom, and they headed back to the bedroom John was supposed to be asleep in. 

As they passed the computer room, a chime sounded, and the two brothers stared at each other momentarily, before rushing inside. All traces of tiredness were gone from John as he checked out the screen that beeped. He turned to Virgil, a feral grin upon his face. 

‘Go get Dad, Virg, I got something.’

TBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTB

Scott didn’t know how long it had now been, but it probably felt longer than it actually was. He was still in the chair, still had not slept properly, still hadn’t actually been asked any questions, and he was tired. And hungry and thirsty, but they were lesser concerns.

The door opened and at least three people came in. Two came in front of him and placed a small table to his left. They left and the third person walked up behind him, trailing a hand down his arm. The woman. She put a small bundle on the table.

‘You’ve had some time to dwell on why you are here. I think it is about time you and I had our chat.’ She paused and unrolled the bundle. Inside were a small collection of syringes. Scott eyed them, not liking at all where this was heading.

She picked one up, flicking the glass and holding it up to the light, before turning to her captive. ‘Don’t look so worried, Scott, they’re just a little something to help loosen your tongue.’


	4. Poisoning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finding out what was in the syringes was never going to be good for Scott.

‘Did you know that one of the earliest truth serums was discovered by an obstetrician? Robert House noticed that woman who had been given a mixture of drugs like morphine, chloroform and scopolamine made them more willing to talk about anything.’

Scott could have done without the history lesson as he watched her picking syringes up and flicking them, making sure of quantities he assumed. He wished that she would shut up and get on with whatever she was intending.

‘Of course, it wasn’t a truth serum really, it was the drugs inhibiting their defences, but his ideas were used for years to get criminals to confess to crimes they had supposedly committed. Strap him.’

The two men with her strapped Scott high across his chest and watched as she selected a syringe and tapped it, then expelled a little liquid and advanced on him. Struggling didn’t do anything, and she smiled, the grin widening in delight as she saw the fear in Scott’s eyes.

‘Please, keep struggling. All you’ll do is tire yourself out further and cause more pain. This is a medication called Hyoscine ‘ – she held the syringe out in front of his eyes – ‘and it is an anticholinergic used in surgery. In the wrong quantities this can have serious side effects. Do you know why?’ She arched an eyebrow, apparently waiting for an answer. Scott did not indulge her. He felt the prick as the needle broke the skin as she continued talking.

‘This is Scopolamine. It’s part of the nightshade family. Ah! I see you understand that. Common side effects include erythema, dizziness, blurred vision and my personal favourite, somnolence. It’s my favourite because it can make a person so tired they act drunk, yet they’re not sleeping. It takes about 30 minutes to start working. FYI, it’s also been used as a date rape drug and to wipe people’s memory. Always fun.’

She snapped her fingers and the men left. Scott clenched his jaw. This was way beyond anything he could ever have imagined would have resulted in him trading places with his brother. The woman was perched on the table, watching him, and he was not going to give her any satisfaction. If he could help it. She lit up a cigarette and watched him.

What on earth did she want from him?

It didn’t take long for him to start feeling the effects. His mouth was very dry, and he began rolling his tongue around to try and encourage moisture. He was hit with a dizzy spell, which was very disorientating considering he was seated. 

She walked over to him and grabbed his chin again. What was it with this woman grabbing his jaw all the time? He was probably bruising a little by now. She stared into his eyes, obviously very happy at what she saw judging by the smirk. The second vial was picked up, flicked and a small amount ejected. Scott didn’t have the wherewithal to struggle this time, and she slid the needle into his skin.

‘This one is the drug most commonly known as truth serum. Sodium Pentothal. It’s a barbiturate that is still used as an anaesthetic and, fun fact, also in lethal injections. I had to make this one myself, based on your age, sex and weight, and the fact that you are quite muscular for such a lean frame. The key with this one is to inject enough so that you become confused and disorientated, but not enough that you go to sleep. It’s a tricky balance, and you’re very lucky that I’m so skilled in preparing this. You’ll stay in a semi-conscious state where you can still talk and answer my questions. Common side effects include high blood pressure and reduced respiratory rate. Not so fun for you is that you may get an aftertaste of garlic, and any side effects can last up to 36 hours.’

She stepped back and placed the empty syringe on the table. ‘Only one more to go now, Captain, then I’ll leave you to marinate for a while, loosen up your thinking skills a little.’ She picked up the last syringe and repeated the motions.

‘This last one is a little different. Chloroform. Another anaesthetic and this one also has the added side effect of loosening one’s tongue when given in the right dosage. Its’ use as an anaesthetic was banned several decades ago because used incorrectly it would often kill the subject from depressing the respiratory system.’

She peered into his eyes and then put her hand over his heart. ‘Well, Captain, your pupils are nicely dilated, and your heart is nicely tachycardic. I don’t want you to be worrying about those side effects now, I am very skilled at my job. I have never poisoned anyone. Yet.’

And so saying, she kissed the tip of his nose and left.

Scott didn’t know what to make of her, or what information she thought he had, but to say he was slightly worried about the joy this woman had talking about each of the drugs she used would be an understatement. All he could do, though, was prepare himself mentally for whatever was coming. He just wished he could focus.

TBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTB

Jeff hurried into the room, followed closely by Virgil. He almost did a double take on seeing the state of John, but he knew how hard John pushed himself when he was on a mission. And this was one of the most important missions going.

Scott had been missing almost four days, and Jeff knew they were running out of time. The two agents were completely out of their depth and hadn’t reappeared once they’d handed over the dossier on Virgil’s ‘friends’. Jeff’s friend at the pentagon had promised help with an extraction once intel was found, especially since it was Intelligence that had cocked up so royally. Of course, Jeff wasn’t that naïve, he realised that they hoped a fresh perspective would help, and that they hoped to catch the extremist in the act.

In the act of what was something he did not want to think about.

‘What have you got, John?’ His second eldest looked up and grinned. It washed away the tiredness on his face. ‘Do you want the long explanation or the short?’ John laughed when  
they both rolled their eyes. He knew his dad was aware of his hacking, he’d been doing it since he was eleven, and both knew the other would not say anything – plausible deniability. He also knew it was his skill navigating the dark corners of the web that would give him – give them – a greater ability to find his brother than the military had.

‘Ok. Short version. I input a lot of searches based on the various histories of the three men who know Virgil, and I have found the plane used to kidnap Scott. Based on the amount of fuel left in it and any logs recorded, I should be able to determine a search radius. I must admit that I’m surprised that they didn’t destroy it, but I guess they didn’t want to raise too many suspicions.’

Virgil clapped his brother on the back, but Jeff pulled John into a hug. He kept it brief, knowing John didn’t really like such contact, but he needed it, and to his surprise John hugged him back. When they pulled apart there were grins and damp eyes.

‘We’re going back to the beginning. Springfield Mass, particularly to Beverly Regional Airport, where small plane charters are not uncommon, and where a six-seater plane was hired the day Scott was kidnapped and returned the morning after.’ 

Jeff was already striding from the room, Virgil following, talking rapidly on the phone. John was detaching a data pad from the pile of computing equipment, tapping away. By the time they had reached the lobby their room had been paid for, the equipment to be boxed up and shipped home, the two intelligence men were in the lobby and a large SUV stood at the curb, ready to take them to the airport to fly out to Springfield.

They were finally beginning to do something proactive to get Scott back.

TBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTB

He was sweating profusely and shivering, the tremors coming from deep inside and he just couldn’t control them. His stomach was cramping greatly, and if he’d have been able to, he’d have been vomiting by now. He knew what this was. It had happened to him before, when he’d needed to have surgery as a child on a badly broken arm.

Morphine. Somewhere in the cocktail of drugs that woman had given him was morphine, which Scott was allergic to. He almost laughed. She had claimed not to have poisoned anybody yet, but she sure had done a number on him. He hoped she would come back soon so that he could tell her. 

Wow. He was definitely not thinking coherently. He really did not want that woman to come back, although, now he thought about it, Scott wasn’t sure why. Wasn’t she going to give him something? Did they have something important to discuss? Whatever the hell was going on, and his grasp on what was occurring was rapidly diminishing, Scott had the overwhelming feeling that he didn’t like the woman. Maybe she’d been rude to Virgil – his name seemed to fit in here somewhere.

Yeah – when she reappeared Scott would give her a piece of his mind for upsetting his brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to let you know that I'm on holiday for the next week and will not be writing.
> 
> As soon as I'm back I'll put up the next chapter.


	5. Hallucination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She's back...with questions.

She wasn’t out of the room for long. Just long enough for Scott to decide a plan of action. Now if only he could remember what it was. The cramping in his stomach was getting worse, and he shivered as sweat ran down his face.

Walking around the chair, she once again checked his pupils and checked the pulse in his neck. She frowned. He was trembling, and as she kept her hand on his neck she could feel the convulsions rack him. Of all the luck, he was obviously allergic to one of the drugs she had given him, and she felt an irrational surge of anger. How dare he break her perfect record!

It was of no matter. Scott was just about still conscious, and she gestured to the two men behind the chair. They removed the strap across his chest, allowing him to breath just that little bit easier, and they swapped the table for another chair. She sat opposite him, looking at him expectantly. Scott frowned. Didn’t he have something he needed to say to her?

The silence continued for several minutes, Scott trying to remember something and the woman sitting across from him, staring, a slight smile on her face. Suddenly she sat up, causing him to flinch slightly.

‘Well, Captain, I guess it’s time we started. Something simple to begin with.’ She repositioned her chair so that she was closer to him and reached out to rest a hand on his knee. 

‘What is your name?’ It was said softly, yet Scott found himself automatically trying to sit straighter. ‘Scott Tracy, ma’am.’ She squeezed his knee. ‘Well then, Scott, let’s get to it then.’ Removing her hand, she sat up straight and spoke in a more authoritative voice.

‘What is your rank?’  
‘Captain.’  
‘What is you DoD ID number?’  
‘201-3667-9904.’  
‘Where are you based?’  
‘…’  
‘Where are you based, Captain?’  
‘McConnell Air Base.’  
‘Very good, Captain.’

She leaned forward and replaced her hand on his knee. She could still feel the tremors and allowed herself a small smile. She squeezed and this time Scott didn’t react. Good. Now to ask more pointed questions.

‘You have information for me, Scott?’ she purred, ‘Information you were going to share with someone?’ Scott frowned. There was something here that wasn’t quite right. ‘N..No, I don’t think so,’ he replied. ‘Come now, Scott. There was definitely something you were going to share with Virgil.’

His brother’s name was the trigger. It cleared a little of the fog away and he stared at the woman, eyes narrowed. ‘I remember,’ he said. She leaned in a little closer and squeezed his knee again. ‘I remember that you upset Virgil and I’m mad at you for that so I’m not talking to you.’ It was not the answer she was expecting, and she sat back in surprise. What on earth was he talking about?

‘I don’t know what you mean, Scott.’ She paused. Scott Tracy obviously had a very strong mind and will, even if he wasn’t making sense to her, and she needed him on her side or he may well give her nothing – and that would lead to a whole different technique of questioning. Not that she minded going down a more physical route, but if it could be avoided then she would. Usually, being the attentive listener encouraged all her subjects to talk, she just needed to find Scott’s weakness.

‘Scott, why would you think that I upset Virgil?’  
‘You were rude to him.’  
‘Did he tell you that?’  
‘Um, I think so. I’m…I’m not sure.’  
‘I think you might be mistaken, Scott. I would never do anything to upset your brother.’

Again Scott frowned. This still did not sit right with him, there was something definitely wrong. Every time she mentioned Virgil a small alarm rang in his head. He just wished he could remember what the alarm was for. Yet here she was trying to reassure him he was wrong.

‘That…that’s wrong. You’re wrong. Virgil is upset. You upset him.’  
‘Honestly, Scott, it wasn’t me. I think that you are hallucinating!’  
‘Am not. Virgil told me.’  
‘Really, Scott? When was that?’  
‘When you left the room. Virgil said I wasn’t to trust you.’  
‘Is Virgil here now?’

Scott tried to look around, his view being hampered by the wings on the chair. His brother was nowhere in sight now, and Scott wondered why he’d chosen this moment to leave. He wanted to see his brother confront this woman.

‘No, he’s just stepped out for some air.’  
‘Scott, no-one’s been here to see you for five days. You’re definitely hallucinating.’

She laughed as she said it, hoping to lighten the atmosphere. This was a risk. If he remembered why no-one had visited it could ruin everything. There was no doubt that his brother was the key, but she was unsure how to shake Scott of the belief that his brother was upset with her. Maybe it was time to play the female a little more.

‘You’re upsetting me, Scott, implying I would ever hurt Virgil!’ she exclaimed, and she willed a couple of tears to fall. Scott faltered. He’d made her cry, and that was bad. If there was one thing that had been drummed into him as a child, it was that you never made a girl cry. There was a part of him that wanted to reach out, wipe that tear away, but as he tried to move the restraints bit into him, bringing him suddenly back into himself. He straightened again, and she saw that the opportunity had passed without her even asking him a direct question. Recognition flared in his eyes.

‘Nice try, ma’am, but I’ve got nothing to say to you.’  
‘Are you sure, Scott?’  
‘Yes, ma’am.’

She sighed and looked away. No-one had ever broken through the haze of drugs before, Captain Tracy must have an extremely fast metabolism to have done so already. It was at least a couple of hours early. Nor did he seem to be that bothered by the lack of sleep. Sure, he’d nodded off a couple of times, but he had seemed to be completely with it when awoken, most people would have been groggy and confused for quite a while. She leaned forward again but kept her hands to herself.

‘Scott, if you don’t tell me what I want to hear then I’m afraid that more physical means of extracting information will need to be used.’  
‘I don’t have anything to say to you, ma’am.’

Ever the polite man he was raised to be, she thought, contemplating her next move. Well, if that was the way Scott wanted to play it, then that’s the way it would be. She stood suddenly over him, and he tilted his head back to see her through the glare of the light.

‘Ok, Captain Tracy,’ she said, a slight accent coming through in her annoyance. ‘If that’s the way you want it I am more than happy to accommodate you.’ With that she stalked out of the room, leaving Scott with the light in his eyes, contemplating what was coming next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note that the DoD ID number is a completely random number.


	6. Torture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time is running out for Scott, and she is determined to get some information from him...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Febuwhump prompt 21: Torture  
> Please note that there are mentions of torture in this chapter, and while they are not graphic they may upset some. There is also a mention of vomiting.

He woke up. It was a little disorientating to be lying on his side on the floor rather than sitting in a chair, and even more disconcerting to realise that he had no recognition of even falling asleep or being moved.

His hands were still bound, this time behind him, but his feet were free. He lay still, waiting for someone to come, for some kind of reaction, of recognition that he was stirring. But there was nothing.

And that was slightly more worrying than anything else. 

He shuffled himself back, away from the door, until he touched the wall, and he braced his shoulders against it as he contorted himself to get his hands in front. It killed his shoulders, his arms, hips. Even his knees and ankles ached slightly, and he stayed sat on the floor, leaning back on the wall, catching his breath and still waiting for someone to discover him.

No-one came.

Scott was wary. His training had taught him that some would stage an opportunity for a prisoner to escape as an excuse for punishment, and he really didn’t need to give that woman more reasons for the interrogation she had not so subtly implied he was due to face.

But. But, if there was an opportunity he could get away, shouldn’t he take it? Shouldn’t he? He took the moment to gather his wits.

Getting to his feet was harder than he anticipated, although he really shouldn’t be surprised he thought to himself. She said he’d been there five days, and, if she was telling the truth, that was five days without being able to move his legs at all. The pins and needles were like fire dancing up and down them, and the first couple of steps were the shakiest he’d ever been. Not even on his biggest benders had he ever felt like this.

Still, he didn’t have time to waste, and the Tracy in him nagged him to get it together and get out, so he stumbled over to the door. It was locked. He almost sighed with relief, which was bizarre, but it gave him some more time to get himself up to speed. He spent the next few minutes just walking, trying to get the feelings back to normal in his joints and trying to get his hands loose. He knew how to get out of the zip-ties, but that was not his main concern.

Scott’s only warning that he was about to have company was the sound of a bolt being drawn back. He sprang to the side of the door, just making it before it swung open. One of the thugs he’d seen before stood in the doorway, momentarily stupefied at the emptiness of the cell. He used that second of hesitation to drive his fists onto the back of the man’s neck. He fell like a sack of potatoes.

His course now set; Scott ran. He had no idea where he was heading, he just ran without stopping. There weren’t many turns that he could take anyway, it was pretty much a straight run, and he knew that was a bad idea. They would know where he was and that he was coming.

The fist he ran into felt like a brick wall and left him on his knees gasping for breath. The boot that kicked his hip had him over completely, and the leering face looking down on him was blurred through the tears. His wrists were grabbed by the binding, and he was dragged, still on his back, through the hallway into a room and hauled up onto a chair. 

She was waiting. Still smoking, she looked at him with a raised eye brow and a slight smirk. Scott had known it was a trap and he had had no choice but to fall into it. And she knew that. He sighed.

‘Well done, Captain,’ she said, ‘I wasn’t sure you would try. And I must admit that I am really impressed you managed to get your legs so quickly into working order.’ She ground the cigarette out on the table beside her and stood up. ‘Unfortunately – for you – we are running out of time. I am very admiring of your family, Scott, they have moved much faster than I would have expected, and I need some answers to take to my superiors. So. We are going to speed things along.’ She turned her back on him and picked something up from the corner. 

‘You know, when I realised that I had an opportunity to grab you I was quite excited, Scott. Most of the men and women I meet are average people, I know next to nothing about them and that’s fine. I just need information that usually some drugs and threats will extort, occasionally a little violence, but you, she sighed, ‘you are famous in your own right. So I did some research while waiting for them to transfer you.’ She turned to face him and was hefting a baseball bat in her hands.

‘Eldest son and heir apparent to your father’s multi-million-dollar business, four younger brothers, no mother. Top of your class at Yale and Oxford. Genius-level intelligence. Star hitter for both school and college, head-hunted for the major leagues, yet you turn your back on all that fame and fortune and enlist in the air force. You are a very interesting man, Captain Scott Carpenter Tracy, and I certainly wish I had more time to…investigate you further.’

As she spoke she swung the bat to and fro in front of him, but so far unthreateningly. She held it up to her eye line as if it was a pool cue, squinting down the length. The bat itself was painted black, and Scott recognised it as a Louisville Slugger. His favourite bat. His eyes narrowed as he watcher her pacing in front of him, pretty sure he knew what was going to come.

‘I can see why you like this bat so much. Nicely balanced, feels good in my hands, lovely paint job. Yes, a very nice bat.’ She used the cap of the barrel to raise his chin until he swallowed reflexively. His blue eyes stared defiantly into her green ones.

‘Last time, Captain Tracy. Give me the information you stole.’

He held her eye while he contemplated her, twitching his nose and sniffing. ‘Last time, Ma’am. I have nothing to say to you.’ Scott watched her eyes narrow and her nostrils flare. She backed away from him and gave a curt nod to whoever was behind him.

Scott was bundled over to the table and his hands placed and held down. He held his breath as the bat swung down. Onto his fisted hands. It wasn’t the first time he’d been hit with a bat – there were some uni rituals he was more than happy not to repeat – and he knew that by keeping his hands as fists he would suffer less damage. Scott also knew that he wouldn’t be able to keep that up.

She was getting frustrated. She really preferred not to get to this level, but this man was pushing her buttons, and he wasn’t really doing anything. What the hell was he made of? She put her all into the swing, and he barely grunted. Most people would be screaming.

He was hauled back into the chair. There was blood in his mouth from where he’d bitten the inside of his cheek to prevent him screaming as he suspected she would have wanted. He watched her warily. She was breathing a little heavier, a little faster. She rolled her shoulders and head, loosening up and, resting the bat on the floor and leaning on it, she pursed her lips and shook her head.

Then she laughed. 

The sound took him by surprise. She strode over to him and grabbed his jaw, squeezing tightly and staring at him. ‘You are amazing. Really, for someone so young to be so self-contained, it’s very unusual.’ There was a thumping behind him, and she looked over him to whatever was going on behind, letting him go. She frowned and stepped away from him.

‘Time’s up, Captain.’ There were hands on his shoulders holding him in place as without warning she swung the bat and hit his left knee several times without let-up.

He screamed.

TBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTB

This was torture.

Waiting around to see if there was news of his son was eating him up inside. Jeff was trying so hard to be strong for John and Virgil, but he admitted to himself that he was close to losing it.

John had managed to refine a circle of possibility where Scott could be based on the fuel consumption in the plane. They all knew it was still a long shot – his captors could have taken him by car anywhere – but it was the best lead they had had. The military police were useless, having said that the extremist they had been following had disappeared and taking the information off John as to the likely places to look, they had left.

Jeff knew that he couldn’t chase after Scott, much as he would like to, needed to. There were things in motion that he could sense but did not know. His business head told him to let it play out, even as his dad head screamed at him for the inaction.

So they waited. It had been two days since John had given them the information.

Still nothing.

Jeff promised himself that he would take action if they heard nothing by the end of today.

TBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTB

John was full of jitters. Too much coffee, too much time, not enough sleep, not enough food. Too much worry.

This was torture.

How long did it take to find a building?

Although, he did know that it wasn’t as simple as that. They would want to search carefully so as not to arouse suspicion, but that didn’t mean he was happy about it. Every second they lost in looking was a second more that Scott was with someone who…well, John didn’t really know, but he had a very good imagination, and it was keeping him from getting what little sleep he was trying to snatch.

He loved Scott dearly, but he wished his brother wasn’t such a self-sacrificing idiot. And John wasn’t stupid. They may not have outrightly stated it, but there was no doubt in his mind that Scott had offered himself for this mission instead of something happening to Virgil.

Virgil. He was really worried about his immediately younger brother. He was looking haggard and drawn, but then he guessed they all were. Virgil was such a caring and emotional soul though, this was going to do lasting damage if they were not careful, and John set his mind to figuring out a way to give his brother some peace of mind.

TBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTB

It’s pretty hard to throw up when you haven’t eaten anything for several days. It doesn’t stop your body from trying. This was Virgil’s reflections on the beginning of the fifth day Scott had been missing as he knelt over the basin again. Just bile, and he knew that was not good, knew the damage he was potentially doing to his oesophagus. He may be studying engineering, but the medic in him, well taught thanks to Grandma and extensive training classes, knew he was doing himself no favours.

He needed to eat but even just the thought made him feel sick. This was all his fault. Completely and utterly his own fault. That had him retching again.

God, the waiting, the not knowing, the inability to do something, anything! Of course, that got his mind spiralling down a whole different path…and he was back over the basin.

This was torturing himself, and he knew it, but he couldn’t stop. He stumbled out into the living room part of the suite they had, waiting for his dad and brother to join him, and grabbed a bottle of water. They weren’t long in joining him, and he was shocked to see how bad they looked. He knew he didn’t look much better.

John stayed a little while before leaving them to check over his computers, having left them running just in case something else came up.

Lunchtime came and went and there was still no news, still too much coffee drunk and still barely any food eaten. Virgil was just dozing when John came rushing back into the room.

‘Something’s happening!’ he excitedly exclaimed.


End file.
